The World is Indeed Flat TWIIF
by Shangyu
Summary: 2/3 original, 1/3 pure Ragnarok. This story takes place in a completely foreign world and follows the adventures/misadventures of three unlikely companions: A bard, a priest and Finight the one with the hidden agenda.


**Chapter 1**

The world is indeed flat. It has been confirmed over and over by those angels who were exceptionally adventurous, or exceptionally dumb. What could possess a being to jump off the edge of Falling Lake (named so for a good reason) and flap feebly for a good handful of minutes only to struggle back onto solid land is a puzzle to many people. Needless to say, the Angelic Order does not encourage this type of behavior since the winged folk are already a rarity among creatures. Humans, on the other hand, laugh at the whole extinction wish-wash. Balindash the Bold was one of these humans who, despite the lack of wings, jumped off the Edge and claimed the experience was life-altering: he lived the remainder of his life in a one-room bungalow. Elves are the one species of people who haven't done anything noteworthy in the course of history, not surprising since most, if not all of them, are gifted with good sense and a fondness for longevity.

The past has dictated that angels are bound to become martyrs, due to their ever-lasting faith in whatever it is that they believe, humans will most likely become accidental heroes since their brash comments are often mistaken for chivalry, and elves will out-live everyone, yet again, since they're so logical. Falling off Edge equals very stupid thing to do; therefore, avoid at all cost.

Allegro Al'maria has a most uncommon blend of characteristics. His grandmother was an angel, and his grandfather, an elf. How grandma Serene and grandpa Oreal got together is quite the epic adventure (much too long to go into in this story). More unusual then this controversial couple is their child. With odds of one to ten thousand against, their child was an angel-elf. Although scientifically classified as a "giant elf", angel-elves possess pointed ears as well as wings (although these are dwarfed by standard angel wings and are completely vestigial). Their child grew up to be a handsome young man, and before the age of 20 (which is still scandalously young by both angel and elf standards) sired a child on a barely adolescent human woman. And so, Allegro is born and was immediately declared a miracle of genetics. For some reason, the mixture of angel obsessions, human foolhardiness, and elvin logic, did not lead to an early death on a crusade to discover the ultimate meaning of life. Instead, Allegro was at The Edge of the World Inn, waiting for his goggles to unfog.

"May I help you sir?" a serving maid asked.

"Actually, yes." Allegro pulled off his gloves and pocketed them carefully. "Could I have a bowl of venison soup, no onions… if you could?"

"Right away sir, seats are at the back." She scurried away, barely avoiding a collision with a gruff-looking swordsman.

Allegro found himself a seat between two farmhands who were studiously devouring their potatoes and gravy. He plopped himself down with a satisfied sigh and swung his lute around to rest on the ground between his knees. The soup arrived, devoid of onions, and Allegro joined his table buddies in eating.

The maid was there to take away his bowl and spoon and replaced it with a mug of apple cider. "On me." She said with a shy smile and skittered away again.

The Innkeeper's wife stalked in, cleared away all the early drunks and all but plucked the zeny from their hands. She paused at the sight of Allegro, not in the least intimidated by his height nor state of soberness.

"Sir, if you're finished for the night… there's more customers, sir." In other words, if you ain't ordering, get out.

"To be honest, I haven't paid yet –"

"Ah, good sir, not many honest men left in the world –"

"And I can't pay." Her face turned stormy. "But, I could, um, pay you back with my services!"

The serving maid overheard this, and flushed crimson.

Allegro suppressed the urge to tell her not _that _kind of service! "I could play you a song or two, entertain your customers."

The Inn keeper's wife peered at him suspiciously. Her gaze locked onto the ornate lute slung across his back. "You a bard?"

"No, no! Of course not! I'm but a wandering musician, a common minstrel, a songster looking for an easy meal and a pallet for the night." She lost her wary look and waved him off.

"Alright, go play some songs. No sad songs mind you, I want something cheery, make these farmers relax: play some love songs, that'd be nice."

"Of course, I'll start right away. Could this by any chance get me a free meal in the morning as well?"

"Sing and we'll see if I feel compromising."

Allegro performed late into the night and adhered to the Innkeeper's wife's command. Evidently, he pleased her enough to earn another mug of apple cider and a fleeting kiss from the serving maid, who turned out to be her daughter. Just as the last couple of drunkards were being ushered out into the silent night, somebody tapped Allegro lightly on the shoulder.

"Waoh! Who the –"

A dark-haired elf stood unsteadily on his feet. He reached out, and tapped Allegro's shoulder again.

"Um… ok. Yes, you've got my attention, you can stop tapping now." Tap, tap. "Are you ok?"

Finally, as if with great difficulty, the elf uttered a few words: "You. Play a song. Get rid of my headache."

Although Allegro was not aware of it, and neither was the elf, the meeting of these two particular beings would be the catalyst to an entire train of unexpected events. Thus it is unfortunate that these two did not start off their relationship on a friendlier note. Instead the elf, who plays a major role in the oncoming events, makes his first impression as a drunken simpleton, unable to articulate his vowels properly and incapable of anything more then five-word sentences.

"You. Play a song. Get rid of my headache."

"You mean hangover? Because it's called a hangover if it's caused by drinking like a fish."

"Whatever."

Allegro grimaced in disgust. "Who'd have a hangover in the evening? No, don't answer that."

"Can you play a song or not?"

"I'm a minstrel you know, as in I entertain."

This time, it was the elf who grimaced. "Right, you're a minstrel and I'm Pikachu on steroids. Just do it."

Very reluctantly, and hesitating more then a little, Allegro hitched his lute forward. What little activity was going about in the room came to a halt and everyone (this being the Innkeeper's wife, her daughter and even Maggie, the gold-fish-in-a-wine-cup) waited in anticipation for - they did not know what. He hummed a note.

Every fiber of the world around them hummed the note with him as if an invisible choir sang. The first few chords hit the air and washed their essence over the elf. For a second, everyone smelled apples and spring and freshly-cut grass. The elf felt his headache melt away like the last frost on a window pane.

"You're…good." Once again, the elf spoke only two words, but the reason was not due to mind-numbing intoxication.

"Thanks." Allegro strapped his lute snuggly into place.

"I'm Finight." Two words: it's a habit of his.

"Lovely to know. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be off to bed –"

"I'm going south. What about you?"

"No offense, but that's none of your business, now is it?" Allegro attempted to push past him, but the elf put out a hand. A glint of metal poked out from beneath his long black jacket. The fabric swung back into place, and it was gone. Allegro was the only one who got a good look at what it was.

He was not impressed. "If you're trying to threaten me, it won't work."

"Of course not," Finight assured in a rush. "I simply ask you to consider. We are both headed south; it is dangerous traveling alone; therefore, why not keep each other company?"

He hated to admit it, but the elf did make sense.

"Besides, I noticed you are short on cash."

_That _comment sent the blood rushing to the tip of Allegro's ears. "Are you telling me you'll share your earnings, just to 'keep you company'?" he demanded, half angrily, but mostly embarrassed. Another thought suddenly occurred to him: "How can you be so sure I'm headed south?"

The elf made a very un-elf-like noise: he snorted. "This is the Edge. You either head south, or go for the Jump. Folk going for the jump usually bring ropes, and harnesses, and wings. Not a lute." Then, as if to drive the point home: "Besides, you're a half-elf."

Undoubtedly, Finight is referring to Allegro as a half-elf (half human, half elf) due to the semi-pointed-ness of his ears. He dismissed Allegro's shocking, pale-blue hair as the consequence of an unfortunate dye job which, in reality, is another result of the bizarre genetic mix.

As a side-note, elf ears are no keener then those of humans' or angels'. Elves simply seem to 'hear better' because they have evolved an extra muscle above the jaw, enabling them to rotate their elongated ears by 90 degrees back. Much like a fox actually. This curious ability has led to the emergence of the colloquial term 'to fox-twitch', or simply 'to fwitch' meaning to eavesdrop.

Assuming Allegro is indeed a half-elf, Finight is being perfectly logical since elves (even just half-an-elf) would not endure absurd and unproductive notions such as performing the infamous Jump.

"Alright, I'll come with you." Allegro finally said, "On the one condition that you answer my question. Honestly, mind you."

"Whatever." Purpose achieved: back to one/five-word sentences.

"Assuming I'm a bard, what are you?"

Finight looked at him disdainfully. "Good night. Go to bed songster."

"Answer the question."

"Hey! Maid!" The elf called, "Get me another bottle of the strong stuff."

Allegro allowed himself a little smile. "Just be sure you're up in the morning; my days start on the first beams of sunlight." He walked away without a backwards glance.

The serving maid ran after him. "Um…sir?"

"Hi." The girl's blouse was slipping down at one shoulder, revealing a goodly mound of breast, not to mention the two top buttons were missing. "Do you need something?"

"Just wanted to tell you something, sir. That pointed-eared man, he's a bit of a drowner." She tugged at her curled tresses absently. "You might want to watch out around him."

"Thank you kindly, miss." There was a pause. "Is there nothing else you need?"

This time, she's the one who paused as if there was something she didn't really know how to say. "Actually, no offence meant, sir, but I think you're a bit of a fool, striking that deal with Mr. Finight. You know, he's back in the bar drinking again. I think he asked you to go along, just so he could drink more, and not worry about a beast savaging his head the next morning." She spun around tersely, presenting Allegro with a nice view of her shapely legs beneath her skirt. "Some advice, sir: elves are perfectly sensible, not honest, but you can count on them to be enormously selfish."

And he'd thought she was cute.


End file.
